


In a billion lives

by Galadwen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Dean, Dean Smokes, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Romance, Tattooed Dean, mary is alive, still hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2089500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadwen/pseuds/Galadwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about time Mary has a chat with her eldest son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a billion lives

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you all. This story started off because of [this post](http://bornonthebattleground.tumblr.com/post/92319224337/i-want-a-destiel-au-where-mary-john-are-alive) on my own tumblr. It turned out much angstier than originally planned, sorry! Also, the Dean you see here is very much inspired by [this](http://dakotaaaa.tumblr.com/post/87819701439/what-if-dean-was-openly-bisexual-smoked-and) lovely art and concept.  
> Continuity, what's continuity? Really, i'm sorry i didn't pay much attention.  
> Thanks to cas_is_king for reading it first.

“We’re home!” Sam shouts through the door, and Mary hears the heavy steps of her boys on the wooden floor, but only the youngest walks into the kitchen. The loud thud of a door shutting upstairs reaches her ears.

“Hey mom” Sam greets her, while walking to the fridge and grabbing a soda. “Hey darling. How was the hunt?” Sam shrugs “Fine, just a couple of nasty poltergeists” Mary nods “There’s chili on the stove if you’re hungry. So, what’s up with your brother?” she asks putting aside her books and notes, and pulling away her glasses.

Sam rolls his eyes. “The usual, he got into a fight with Cas. Jeez, those two are killing me” He shakes his head, taking a long sip “I dunno what’s gotten into Dean, really, Cas is just trying to help, and he always reacts way over proportion to anything” he mumbles, while reaching for a spoon and opening the warm pot. Mary furrows her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything other than “Use a plate, caveman!”

She sighs: it’s about time she talks with her eldest.

-

Dean wakes up late in the morning, and when he reaches the kitchen he finds coffee and pancakes. And his mother, clearly waiting for him. “Good morning sweetheart. Sit down, have breakfast.” Dean sits down gingerly, wary of his mother being so… _mother-ly_.

“Thanks, mom”

Mary smiles at him and watches as he drinks coffee and starts eating the pancakes.

“So, what’s going on with Castiel?”

Dean almost chokes on the food, and coughs for a good minute before being able to talk.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep getting into fights with him, why is that?” Mary ‘s voice is neutral, but her eyes are attentive.

Dean waves one hand dismissively, taking a sip of coffee.

“Nothing, it’s just that he’s…annoying, with all the wanting to help when he really just—just drives me crazy, you know…”

Mary waits for Dean to end the sentence, but the he never does. Instead he turns his eyes to the window, a pained look on his face. Someone else could have missed it, but not Mary.

“Dean”

“Mom”

“Why do you keep pushing him away?”

“I’m not”

“Yes you are. I know you, boy. And for some reason you always end up pushing away the people that care the most about you.” Her voice is sweeter, now, the look she gives Dean full of meaning.

Dean purses his lips, and gets up. The pop of the lighter is strangely loud in the silence. He leans on the sink by the window, dragging on the cigarette, and the sun brings out the lines of ink on his arms. Protective symbols and monsters. Mementos of hunts and other scars.

“I thought you gave up smoking” Mary says after a while.

Dean just shrugs, and Mary sighs, steepling her fingers. Dean is just so difficult to reach sometimes, hiding behind all his walls.

“I don’t get it, love. Cas so obviously… cares about you. And you do, too. I know you do. But you keep pushing him away. What are you so scared of?”

Dean snorts, letting the ashes fall into the sink.

“You’re reading too much into it, mom, seriously. It’s just that Cas is very much annoying, sometimes. And he gets in the middle of things and he has this obsession about watching over me—us, that honestly I don’t-“

Mary lets go an exasperate sigh. Tiptoeing around it is not going to work.

“Dean. Stop lying to me, please. I know you, I see how you look at him, how you stare at each other.”

Dean mouth falls, but no sound comes out of it. Mary rises, and walks over to him.

“Why can’t you admit it, darling? It’s clear you have feelings for him.”

“Stop it!” Dean’s almost yelling , and Mary’s eyes crinkle in concern at this unexpected reaction.

“I’m not—he doesn’t—I’m not gay!” he shouts and his eyes are panicked.

“Honey, that’s not really the point. But it’s clear he loves you and why are you scared to the point of pushing him away if you…” she leaves the words hanging, looking at Dean, who is clinging to the sink like his life depends on it, knuckles white for the effort.

“Why do you want me to be gay?!” he screams.

Mary almost jump, and can’t help but shout back, voice filled with sorrow, because she realizes she can’t reach him “I don’t want you to be anything, Dean! I just want you to be happy!” She searches his eyes, and is shocked by the amount of pain and fear she sees in them “But with the life that we live, if you run across a bit of happiness you should grab it and hold on to it!” She finishes more gently, stroking one of his arms with hesitation.

But Dean shakes his head and pulls away.

“I can’t. I can’t. Dad would never, ever—“ he mumbles, tossing the cigarette in the sink.

“How has John anything to do with this?”

But Dean just keeps staring to the ground, and doesn’t reply.

“Dean…” Mary sighs “I don’t know what happened between you two, I’m sorry if he ever made you feel bad about…this. But your father has been dead for five years now, and what he thought—or what you think he thought, shouldn’t keep dictating how you live your life. Besides” she adds as an afterthought “He, too, would want you to be happy” Mary tries to convey absolute certainty into her words, even though she’s not completely sure. But it doesn’t matter now, does it?

Dean hangs his shoulders and shakes his head more, and when he looks up, his eyes are wet. Mary’s heart sink, because she didn’t want it to go this way, and she doesn’t know what to do. She knows Dean’s thoughts are spiraling, but she finds herself helpless.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because Cas could never, ever love someone like me. He’s an _angel_! And I’m what? A mess. A complete, barely human, mess. I was in Hell. I did things that would horrify a monster” He spits out the words with so much hatred that Mary is almost scared “And what even if he does, mh?” he looks her right in the eyes “I can never be worth of him, not in a billion lives. So, conversation’s over.”

He doesn’t give Mary time to reply or try to stop him, but storms out, the door shutting close behind him.

The kitchen is suddenly empty and silent, and Mary keeps watching the door, eyes watering, until the sound of fluttering feathers shakes her.

“Did you hear it?” her voice is broken when she speaks to Castiel. He nods, a world of sorrow in his eyes.

“You should go get him” she adds.

“No.” it’s the soft reply “If I go now he will reject me. He needs to come around at his own time.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

\----

Dean has been out for hours, drinking and driving and now he’s at a strip club, decided to prove to himself and to the lurking shadow of his father that he can be like everyone else, like his father wanted him to be. That he can lose himself in the soft skin and the hot lips of a girl, because he’s Dean Winchester and he’s a ladies’ man.

That’s what he tells himself as the girl starts dancing around him, sliding her body on his. He doesn’t need a fucking angel dressed like a fucking accountant. And he most certainly doesn’t need _a man_.

And it should be easy, to forget oneself in the warmth and the pleasure of the flesh, and the fog of the alchool. Except it isn’t. Not when a pair of judging blue eyes keeps appearing every time he closes his eyelids. Not when he keeps hearing his name in a low, growling voice. Not when his skin tingles at the mere thought with so much want and need it’s outright scary. _Damn it._ So much, that he gives up and goes back, leaving a very perplexed stripper.

The house is dark and silent when he enters, stumbling a bit. Yet, there is a dark figure sitting on the sofa.

“Dean” Cas’s voice trails off in the dark room.

“Cas” Dean swallows, steadying himself against the doorframe. He’s much more intoxicated than he should. And he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, or the sudden skip of his own heart, the weakness he feels in his knees.

Cas rises, and is beside him in a second. He grabs Dean’s shoulder, and forces him to look him in the eye.

“You’re drunk” it’s hardly a question.

“Really?” Dean wishes himself sharp, but comes out only weak.

“Dean, I have to tell you something.”

“Oh yeah? Well maybe I’m too drunk to hear it” he tries to escape the grip of the angel, but it’s too strong.

“No, you need to hear this.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“I love you.”

“Nah, you must be more drunk than I am.”

“I love you.”

“Seriously now, Cas, stop it.”

“I love you, Dean.”

And then, Dean stops. Because he can’t keep denying it, and somewhere inside him, a tiny little spark of hope is starting to make its way up to his mind, to his heart. That maybe, just maybe, this is true, maybe Mary is right and Cas does love him, for some mysterious reason, even if he’s broken and a mess, maybe Cas does.

Dean swallows a knot in his throat, because it’s so hard to believe. He stares at Cas, at the deep blue of his eyes, the curve of his lips and he knows he wants nothing more than to taste them, than to lose himself in that blue. But fear it’s still holding him.

“Are you…are you serious?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“But I—you—it can’t”

And then, whatever objection was on his lips is swept away by Cas mouth, closing on his. By his hands pulling him closer and closer, by his fingers through his hair, and his lips and tongue, so incredibly warm and soft. And it’s heaven, quite literally, and all the fear and the aguish and the feeling of being lost, all melt away in the warmth of the kiss, in Cas’s body grounding him, and Dean doesn’t want to pull away anymore, ever.

“How can you think you’re not enough for me?” Cas whispers on his lips, holding him and keeping their foreheads pressed together “How can you think you’re not worthy? I broke into Hell to get you, Dean Winchester, and I would do it again. And again, for all eternity.” He mumbles, and Dean clings to him, to his arms and his shoulder and he’s crying and burying his face the crook of Cas’s neck.

-

Their lips crash together and pants and sighs fill the air as they kiss frantically, stumbling through the room. Dean stops, unsure of what he’s doing, but Cas smiles softly and then kisses him and pushes him on the bed, staring deeply into his eyes

“Let me take care of you, Dean. Allow me.” and Dean just remains silent because he’s so overwhelmed he can barely breath, a shiver runs through his spine and reaches every inches of his body at the sound of Cas’ voice and the air rings with electricity.

Cas sheds Dean’s clothes slowly, tracing the skin he uncovers with his lips, reverently praying along every single scar and every ink line of his body and caressing every freckles. And when Dean is naked under his gaze, he takes a moment to admire the man he’s so lucky to call his own. He lets out a sigh, and tells Dean that he’s so beautiful and perfect. “If you say it like this I might believe it” whispers back Dean, still incapable of believing he can ever deserve love and devotion, even when he has an angel tending to his wounded soul.

But Cas doesn’t reply, doesn’t want to _tell_ him, he wants to _show_ him. He goes down on Dean, kissing his way along the warm skin of Dean’s stomach and hard muscles, and when he takes him into his mouth Dean moans and hisses through his teeth, arching his hips.

“Where did you learn that?” he pants, and Cas stops for a second “From the pizza man” and there’s a note of mischief in Cas voice. Dean lets go another muffled sound “I didn’t know pizza men did that…” he mutters under his breath “There are all different kinds of pizza men, Dean…”

And then Dean stops talking, and Cas keeps tasting him, leaning into the touch of Dean’s hand that ruffles and pulls his hair. Cas stretches an arm, and gently places his fingers on Dean’s lips, and he sucks them mindlessly, lost in the feeling of Cas mouth on him. Cas stretches Dean with his fingers, and he wants him to enjoy every second of it and does it slowly, so painfully slow, until a rough ‘ _Cas, Please!’_ escapes Dean’s mouth. Cas obliges and slides into Dean and he shivers with excitement, anticipation and love. He feels every inch of Dean’s body as he slowly sheathes himself into him, and a low growl escapes from Dean lips. He stops, not wanting to hurt him, and leans over to kiss his lips and his chin and his eyelids. And Dean arches his hips to meet him and raises his head and his chest to be closer to Cas, to kiss him fiercely and to beg him for more.

Then Cas starts moving, and Dean falls back on the bed and shuts his eyes and moans. And Cas increases his pace, losing himself in Dean, and the pleasure builds in waves over them, like the ocean preparing for a storm. He relishes in the sight of Dean’s skin glistening with sweat, in his eyes shut in abandon and his mouth crying out Cas name in pleasure. And then Dean arches his hips more, and latches his legs on Cas back, and he shouts his orgasm as Cas thrusts harder and deeper, and Cas can’t take it anymore. He shuts his eyes close, a white light exploding in his mind, an electric bolt going through his spine like a lightening. _So like grace_ , he thinks before collapsing on Dean.

They pant heavily as the pleasure subsides, like a retreating tide, and lingers at the borders of their souls. They remain in each other’s arms, as morning slowly creeps in, and finds them halfway between dreams and daylight, limbs tangled together.

“Cas” Dean’s voice is just a tentative whisper, and silence hangs for a moment above them “Don’t let me go.”

He closes his eyes as he feels Cas lips on his forehead, and his wings closing protectively on him. He can almost see them, shimmering in the first rays of sun, the soft sound of feathers waving.

Cas answer is another whisper, yet somehow sounds a lot like a vow, and Dean shivers a little at the sound of it.

“Not in a billion lives.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a [little coda](http://bornonthebattleground.tumblr.com/post/95452201842/so-i-decided-to-add-a-little-coda-to-in-a-billion) I decided to add, it's just on the blog.


End file.
